Running the first five kilometers

I was approaching the 18-kilometre spirit hub of the Calgary Marathon half-marathon. Someone was holding up a sign that read: “You are an inspiration.”

I was overcome with such intense emotion that I had to cover my face and run whilst I cried the happiest and proudest tears. I was three kilometers from the finish line and reaching a goal I never thought I could attain.

How far I have come in the past nine months as a runner is something I owe completely to the Canadian Breast Cancer Foundation CIBC Run for the Cure.

A strong and devastating family history of breast and ovarian cancer led members of my family to be tested for the BRCA cancer gene mutation.

In 2004, I agreed to be tested for the cancer gene mutation and got a positive result. From that point on, my doctors watched me closely and sent me for tests every year, such as mammograms, breast MRIs and ultrasounds.

In May 2011, my breast MRI came back different, showing a little line just above my left nipple. It wasn’t there the last time.

A little line that needed to be investigated.

A little line that could be nothing.

Or it could be breast cancer.

I was sent for an MRI-guided biopsy. On July 18, with my children at my doctor’s office, my doctor told me, “It appears that you have early stage breast cancer.”

She hugged me and all I could say was “Wow.”

Our oldest son Memphis, age two-and-a-half at the time, was playing with toys on the floor and came over to me and asked: “Mommy, do you want to play dinosaurs with me?”

I looked at him and cried. I looked over at our youngest son Logan, eight months old at the time.

I wondered if I was going to make it to see their next birthdays.

I wondered if I would get to live to see them grow up.

I met with a surgeon in Calgary, an amazing doctor named Dr. Rene Lafreniere, who advised me and agreed with my already-made decision to go forward with a bilateral mastectomy.

A few days after meeting with my surgeon, I thought to myself: “I have to do the CIBC Run for the Cure. Whether I walk or run, I have to do this event.”

After my surgery on August 11, my friends and family rallied around me and joined TEAM McCREA. Every person who signed up and every dollar that we raised gave me support and helped me in my recovery. At the start of my recovery, I could barely move my arms from my armpits let alone lift my children, or a jug of milk.

I have never been a runner. I have never liked to run. I always wanted to learn but never did. I was fit but not a runner. I would always get a cramp in my side four minutes into a run, give up and start walking. Once I got clearance from my doctors to train, I realized I had a team of 20 people coming out to Calgary to join me for the CIBC Run for the Cure, and that I better figure out how to run with them.

I was grateful to be alive.

I was declared cancer free.

I was going to run like there was no tomorrow.

On Sunday, October 2, that’s what I did.

For the first time in my life, I ran five kilometres. With my team all dressed in pink, we did the CIBC Run for the Cure.

When I crossed the finish line, I was a wet mess of tears. Some of my teammates were there ahead of me and they embraced me. I waited for my rock, my husband of 10 years, Jim, and our sons to cross the finish line and it was one of the most empowering moments of my life.

I will never forget it.

After the run, my one friend who is runner asked me if wanted to do a half marathon with her. I said “absolutely” and I was hooked on running. We set some goals for running in 2012 which included a half-marathon in May.

I lived to see our oldest son turn three in September and I lived to see our baby turn one at the end of October.

I was declared cancer free in August. My breast cancer was diagnosed and caught in the very earliest stages of breast cancer due to the intense screening I received because of my BRCA cancer gene mutation. I did not have to go for chemo or radiation; however, my doctors put me on tamoxifen for five years.

Tamoxifen has not been my best friend in the early months. I started the drug in December of last year and it caused fatigue.

That’s not a good thing for me, considering I was training to run a half marathon.

It was debilitating. I could barely get off the couch to take care of my children let alone get to the gym to run on the treadmill.

But I fought through it, one day at a time. Sometimes one hour at a time. After a month my fatigue lifted and then came back, and then went away again. I continued to do my best with running and focusing on my goal of the half-marathon at the end of May.

I knew I could do it, I told myself that cancer had only made me stronger.

And somehow on May 27, with a smile on my face and my pink ribbon gloves on, I crossed the finish line of the Calgary Marathon half-marathon.

I never thought it would be possible before doing the CIBC Run for the Cure last year.

I am thankful for my life. Every day is a gift.

I am living proof that an early diagnosis can dramatically change a breast cancer diagnosis outcome.

And I remember waking up from my bilateral mastectomy and seeing my husband smiling at me as I said to him: “Remind me, that after today I will not let this cancer take one more day from me again.”